A noisy lorikeet, not the
kind you keep as favoured
pets, screeched at me
because I stole a mandarin
out of his tree.
Bugger off said he, as only
lorikeets can do, go find your
own damn tree – you hairy
bludger! There’s no need
for such language I replied,
besides, with only one tree
of this kind sadly you’re the
chump who’s out of luck. Now
leave! He did, and screeched
with such a vehemence his
brothers came to see what
raised his ire. I was judged a
hopeless case, recalcitrant
and out of touch, in need of
subtle teaching.
So they shrieked their noisy
insolence, looked me in the
eye and ate a tiny piece from
each and every bit of fruit just
out of reach.
How’s that cobber, they leered
at me, you learning anything
from this class? Yeah, say I, I see
I’ll have to pick the bloody tree
much earlier next year...
© 13 June 2007, I.D. Carswell
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